


Happy Accidents

by gr8escap



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Brooklyn, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Pearl Harbor - Freeform, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, wwii era steve rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-05-25 20:54:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6209752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gr8escap/pseuds/gr8escap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We walked into the theater and he was quiet, shyly nodding or waving to the other dancers who would catcall him. Eventually, he cleared his throat, “So, where are you from?”</p><p>“Oh? I’m from a small town in Ohio. Daddy used to work in the steel mill across the river and momma would take in sewing.” I rambled and he smiled. “Where are you from, if I might ask?”</p><p>“Me? Oh, I thought everyone knew all there was to know about me between the papers and the news reels.” He laughed, “I’m from Brooklyn.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How to Embarrass Yourself in front of Steve Rogers - by Mary Anne Peters

**Author's Note:**

> OFC+Steve Rogers  
> Something that came to mind after reading [this](http://captaincorruptor.tumblr.com/post/140675933529/5-minute-drabble-challenge) by @captaincorruptor and watching a bit ~~too much~~ of Captain America The First Avenger

* * *

The first time I saw the blonde star-of-the-show, the man with a star on his chest, was my first official day on the show circuit as a dancer. I’d just gotten off the bus in Hollywood and watched as the rest of the girls ran to the stack of suitcases and trunks that had been unloaded from the red and blue pickup. I saw my brown case and my little round train case and moved in after the girl in front of me stepped away. I pulled down my suitcase and as I tugged on the handle of the train case to remove it from the top of the stack, its latch broke.

How horrified was I when all sorts of silken items billowed out of it in front of the driver and the guy he was talking to? I’d already noticed the man in his pressed slacks and the button-up army dress-shirt, which was a little snug across his chest and shoulders, as he leaned on the fender of the pickup. My cheeks felt hot with mortification as the tall officer stooped to rescue the fallen luggage before he had a chance to realize what it had contained.

“Oh, Captain – please allow me!” I tried to gather my wits and my stockings but his large outstretched hand stopped me without even touching me.

“Nonsense.” He said in a deep but conspiratory whisper. I couldn’t see his full face but the side of his jaw looked a little pink.

He neatly and efficiently stuffed the frenzy of stockings and lace into the case and closed the lid. He picked up the case and turned it on its side, holding it shut with one hand and using the graceful, long fingers of his free hand to fiddle with the latch. With a look of concentration, he twisted the catch just a bit and snapped the lid shut.

“Good as new.” His cheekbones were highlighted when he smiled – his beautiful face lit up, and his dimples deepened too.

“Thank you, Captain.”

“Oh, please,” He tucked my bag under his arm and offered me his hand. “Steve.”

I reached mine out to him, and was thankful I still had my gloves on. I imagined touching him would have sent a shock up my arm, and it had been drilled into me since I was a small child to keep your gloves clean, to wear them when in public and by all means don’t let a strange man touch your bare skin.

My mother was nothing if not proper. Wouldn’t she just turn over in her grave if she saw the skirt I had just been fitted for to go on stage in tonight?

“You’re new, Mary Anne right? I heard we had a new dancer starting today.” He said, conversationally as he picked up my suitcase.

“Yes, but please call me Anne. Tonight’s my first show, I’ve had a couple of quick rehearsals, and I’m so nervous.” Which, of course he could tell, Annie, you blabbermouth.

He smiled, it was soft and shy and he gave me a small wink, “it gets easier, I know someone who can help you if you struggle, when we get inside I’ll introduce you. If you’d like?” He’d added the question hesitantly, as if I would turn him down, and I wondered who on earth would make a man with such an earnest and endearing face second guess such a chivalrous offer.

“I’d like that, thank you Captain – I mean Steve.” Oh wouldn’t mother just be fit to be tied? Calling a man I’d just met by his first name. Never mind, this is my life and this is not the direction she’d have wanted me to take anyway.

We walked into the theater and he was quiet, shyly nodding or waving to the other dancers who would catcall him. Eventually, he cleared his throat, “So, where are you from?”

“Oh? I’m from a small town in Ohio. Daddy used to work in the steel mill across the river and momma would take in sewing.” I rambled and he smiled. “Where are you from, if I might ask?”

“Me? Oh, I thought everyone knew all there was to know about me between the papers and the news reels.” He laughed, “I’m from Brooklyn.”

My heart shifted, I think I embarrassed myself with stars in my eyes, “I always wanted to go to New York.”

“It’s home. It’s not the glitz you think when you think of Manhattan.” He smiled, probably humoring me.

“Yeah? It’s not row-houses along the river with a view of smokestacks and the smell of sulfur either.” I grinned back at him.

He laughed. “Still, home is home.”

“Yeah, and here we are, both so enamored with home that we’re almost as far away as we can get.”

“Not quite.” He said wistfully.

“Don’t tell me you’re another boy anxious to go to war? Aren’t you frightened?”

“I’m more frightened of what not fighting could mean.”

“I guess I’ve just heard so much male bravado about fighting and killing that it’s refreshing to meet someone who isn’t shouting at the world.”

“Steve!” someone shouted then, another dancer from inside the dressing room. She was stunning, and he smiled when he saw her. Instinctively I stepped back a half a step as I tried not to judge her for her beauty and her shiny hair and just everything.

“Liv, I want you to meet Anne. Tonight’s her first show; I told her you’d be the one to show her the ropes.” He set my suitcase down just inside the doorway. The brunette came through the door with a wide smile.

“Well hello Anne! I’m Olivia, or Liv as Stevie here likes to call me. Aren’t you lovely? I love your victory rolls! Tell me you do your own hair and can help me with this unruly mess!”

“I do, but – Liv? Your hair is flawless!” and I couldn’t judge her any more. “Steve, tell her.”

He blushed, “Hey, if you have any more trouble with the catch on your bag, just let me know. It was nice meeting you, Anne.”

“He’s too much.” Liv smiled, “such a shy, yet handsome man.”

“I don’t think the two are mutually exclusive?”

“Of course not, but the poor sweet thing, doesn’t seem to know just what a catch he is. I could eat him up.” She purred.

“Oh my! Liv!!” I blushed and then laughed nervously.

“Anne, kid,” she laughed, “I really like that boy and he’s been nothing but a gentleman. Where did I go wrong?”

* * *

The next time I met Steve outside of the stage performance or a wave over the masses was in Chicago. As I was hurrying out from the dressing room toward the stage, the heel of my shoe broke off and I crashed to the floor gracelessly. The next thing I knew besides the sting of what would become a bruise, was Steve kneeling next to me in his red, white and blue costume, his cowl was tossed back with his hair uncharacteristically mussed, and he had a concerned look on his face, “Anne are you ok?”

“Bruised pride, possibly skinned knee, nothing broken except for my heel.” I sat up, and unbuckled my shoe, and slid it off then repeated the steps with the other one. “Why is it that the only time we seem to speak to one another is when I’m breaking something?”

He chuckled, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh.”

“No, go ahead! It’s actually funny.” He rose and held out a hand. I accepted his help and stood in front of him. “Yeah, I’ll live. Not sure how I’ll dance with a broken heel though, I’m afraid. I wonder if there’s a backup pair.” I said idly.

“I’m sorry; this isn’t an easy fix like the suitcase was.”

“Oh, that’s ok, Captain America isn’t a cobbler, he’s a soldier.”

He frowned and I instantly wanted to take back my offensive comment, but I didn’t know which word was the upsetting one. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to insult you Steve.”

“No, it’s just the soldier comment. I thought that was what I was getting involved in when I joined but – well here I am.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” I heard myself say; I realized my hand – my gloveless hand – was still firmly held in his. “You – the, um, the music’s starting – they can do the show without me, but not without you.”

“Right.” His half-smile, that partial wink and smile that I now dreamed about nightly was back. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

“I am… go… I’ll watch from the side. I’ll have to ask Liv about backup plans for broken heels.” He laughed with me as far as the stage entrance. After he was on stage I whispered to myself, “I love to watch him walk away.” I’ve spent too much time with Liv.

 


	2. How to Manipulate Steve Rogers Without Being Shitty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wondered, could I, maybe, offer my company? How would he receive that? Not well if it seemed to stem from pity, but maybe if I asked him for some things not to miss, maybe my goals of seeing Steve's New York and taking his mind off the loneliness could meet in the middle.

Blissfully, we found ourselves in New York City in the summer with four days off. I had never been and I remembered what Steve had said about it being his home and being different than the casual observer’s expectations. I wondered the whole time we were traveling if I could gather the wits and courage to ask him to show me the sights of _his city._

I was presented with the chance when the bus had stopped two hours out from our arrival and everyone climbed down to stretch their legs and get refreshments. “Hi Steve.” I waved when I saw him at the soda fountain.

He dipped his head with a blush before recovering and I was weak in the knees. I thought his bashful nature was so corny and so endearing. “Oh, Hey Anne.” He greeted me with that half-smile.

“Mind if I join you?” I asked, indicating the empty stool next to him.

“What? Oh, no, not at all, that is, if you’d like to.”

Never had I encountered someone so apologetic about being in my space – even when I invited myself to be there. Why would anyone beat his man down like this? Clearly he was kind and honorable.

Generally, he seemed to present an air of applied confidence. He never seemed to be awkward when he was engaging with the kids who flocked to him, he seemed relaxed and attentive when the crew approached him, and he was congenial when he talked with Liv and the dance choreographer but that’s where his confidence seemed to end.

He was terribly helpful to all of the girls but any time any of them would talk to him one on one, he’d turn as red as the stripes on his costume or just clam up.

“Of course I’d like to. Why would I ask if it was something I wouldn’t want to do?”

“To be polite.” He said quickly.

“Now, I’m pretty sure I can be polite to you and sit elsewhere, it just so happens, I’d like to share a space with you. It could be fun to bend your ear, and you can bend mine. Now, captain, what are you most looking forward to when you get back to your city?"

He drew a long drink from his ice cream soda before he looked at me. Pushing that uncontrollable forelock from his eyes, his response saddened me, "nothing much there right now. Everyone has gone off to the war." 

"Surely there's a girl waiting for you?"

His laugh was harsh, "no"

"I'm sorry, that wasn't meant to be nosy, I hate to think you're home and yet alone." I wondered, could I, maybe, offer my company? How would he receive that? Not well if it seemed to stem from pity, but maybe if I asked him for some things not to miss, maybe my goals of seeing Steve's New York and taking his mind off the loneliness could meet in the middle.

"This will be the first time since everyone shipped out." He said wistfully, idly toying with the straw.

The waitress came past "you still doin’ ok sugar?"

"Yes, thank you," he smiled his show-stopping smile, “would you add whatever Anne wants to my bill, please, Evelyn?"

"Sure thing, what'll it be, darlin’?"

"Oh? I never took the time to check the menu, what do you recommend Steve?" This could be my in. Start with the local cuisine.

"Have you ever had an egg cream?  I recommend you at least try it once."

"Egg? Cream?" Somehow that didn't equate to what he had in front of him.

"Relax," he chuckled, actual humor in this laugh this time, "no egg. Just trust me. Usually you can’t get one outside of New York, but it looks like they’ve traveled north." He showed me the “New from NYC!” notice on the menu.

"Sure. Ok, yeah if you say so,” I said dubiously, “ I suppose I'll have what the captain's having."

The waitress scribbled my order, "I'll be right back with that, another one for you Sugar?"

"Why not? I don't get back often enough to indulge." He grinned like a schoolboy at Evelyn-the-waitress, and then he turned to me, "So you've decided to trust me?"

"Of course! Honestly I don't know how I'll survive four days in New York!" I laughed at myself, "Do you have any more recommendations so I don't embarrass myself?"

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about. I'm sure there's a lot in Ohio that you could teach me about."

I laughed, "steel mills and cows and farms, oh my!" 

"You laugh, but I've only seen cows and farms from the bus windows. City kid, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Say, how about you show me what's not to be missed here? Then when we get to Ohio I'll repay the favor."

He looked almost relieved, like maybe he wanted to make the offer but in a million years wouldn't. Again I felt kinda bad for him.

"I'd really like that," he said as Evelyn set our egg creams in front of us.

“So, what do you miss most about home, Steve?”

“Sometimes I just miss the noise. Not too often, but sometimes, it's so quiet I can't sleep.”

“That's the opposite of anything I could imagine, but I guess if you're used to something, the lack of it would be troubling.”

“Chicago wasn't so bad,” he ducked his head before continuing, “I opened my window to let in some of the sounds.”

“I did that at the boarding house in Kansas” I admitted, “to let in the sounds of the night.”

He looked up then, “what sounds? That was one of the worst nights for me!”

“Crickets.” I laughed, “There were cows in Kansas, you fellas stayed in town, us girls got bussed to the boarding house on the edge of town, there were cowbells and the gentle lowing of calves, it was sweet.”

“I guess I'll take your word for it” he laughed. What a musical noise. “I guess anywhere you live is home.”

“What do you think you'd show me first?”

“Maybe a little Brooklyn, if you're game.” He lit up like the town Christmas tree, “We could visit my neighborhood for a bit, there's a great deli not too far from my apartment. Or were you expecting something more-“

I put my hand on his to stop him, “Steve, I'd love that. I could just follow the gals if I was expecting the usual.”

“Oh, ok.” His smile was more bashful than before, “Ok, then I have a few ideas, how do you feel about baseball?”

“It's ok. I guess I'd be more enthusiastic if I'd made the team.” I told him. As his confusion grew, I decided to save him asking, “I was late joining this tour because I spent my spring trying out for the All-American Girls Baseball League.”

“So,” he started, clearly stunned and possibly a little impressed (not a reaction I was all that accustomed to when it came to many men and actually a lot of women) “maybe no baseball?”

“If you're ok with an all-girl game I suppose I could suffer along.” I teased.

“It's that or catching a little league game if the All-American Girls Baseball League thing is too raw.”  He grinned, a little devilishly.

We spent the remainder of our stop talking about baseball, and unfortunately, my induction to the road tour, “there were scouts at the games hitting up those of us who didn't make the cut, “you there! You look good in a skirt but can you dance?” This guy says to me.”

“You're pulling my leg.”

“I'm not! That's how it happened _as I was getting rejected_.”

“I almost understand how that might have felt.” He said as young Thomas, one of the crew came up.

“Cap, we’re loading up now. Miss they're waitin’.”

“Thanks Tommy.” Steve said as he waved Evelyn over to pay the check.

“Thank you sugar, you have a safe trip! I can't wait to tell write my husband and tell him Captain America was in our shop”

His blush was instant and he was gracious, though uncomfortable. “I'll apologize now for how unimpressed he’ll be.”

“Oh, go on!” She chuckled. 

“Do you know everyone’s name?” I asked, as he stood and gathered his pencils and book.

“I try, it doesn't take much to just say hello, you know?” He explained as he escorted me to the bus.

I smiled, “you're pretty special Steve Rogers. I'm sorry I interrupted your drawing time. Thanks for putting up with me.”

He pushed that forelock out of his eyes again, seemed more from nerves than anything. “It was a pleasure, Anne. We are still on for a Brooklyn adventure, right? If you don't want to, just say so.”

“You can't get out of it now.” I winked as I stepped up onto the bus with his assistance. I thought I saw him eyeing my stocking seam or my red shoes. I turned my ankle as I stepped up to the final step; I looked back and saw him smiling. When his eyes met mine, he waved.

Oh damn, captain, you are a complete dream.


	3. Steve Rogers - the Cracker Jack kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve shows Annie around Brooklyn

The hotel desk rang my room early the next morning. My roommates weren't too thrilled by the ring but I caught it before it rang a second time, with an apology.

“I have a message for Mary Anne Peters”

“This is Mary Anne.”

“A Captain Rogers left a message with a callback request, I can connect you if you would like.” The switchboard operator said.

“Thank you, yes please.”

“Ok Miss Peters, please hold.” And after the briefest moment, “Miss Peters, Captain Rogers is on the line.”

“Thank you, Hello Captain Rogers.”

“Hello Miss Peters, I was wondering if - if nine o’clock would be an acceptable time?”

Clearly he was being considerate of the operator, and minding my reputation with all the formality I smiled “Of course, Captain. I’ll be ready and meet you in the lobby promptly at nine.”

I rushed to ensure my hair was just so, found my favorite, most comfortable dress – that also happened to be quite lovely – and pressed the luggage creases out of it. I was just about dressed when Millie woke for the day this time. “Where are you rushing to be?” she yawned.

“I’m meeting a friend and we’re going to visit some of the sights.”

“Oh Annie, I thought you’d come with us?”

“Sorry, Millie, sweet. I’d already made plans. Maybe we can all get together before we have to leave the city.”

“You look adorable Annie! Are you sure those shoes are comfortable for sightseeing?” she asked, as I stepped into and fastened my favorite red ankle-strap heels.

“These are deceptively comfortable.” I argued tugging the last strap through it’s buckle, and rightfully so, they were exactly that. “And thank you for the compliment, please tell me I don’t have a stray hair anywhere?” I whirled slowly in front of her.

“Immaculate.” She pronounced, “Not a hair out of place. Is your friend a male friend, Miss Annie?”

“Well, perhaps.” I allowed. “Simply a friend, Millie-Matchmaker.”

“Simply a friend” I reminded myself as I took the stairs down to the hotel lobby. I needed the time the stairs took, the peace of mind my own council gave me instead of smiling for an elevator attendant. I stepped off the landing to the final set of stairs as Steve walked in through the front doors. For once, he looked like he didn’t feel out of place. “Steve.” I called when I was close enough to not make a scene trying to get his attention. “Good morning.”

He smiled, “Good morning Anne.”

“Tell me, because I’m curious,” I started, taking his offered arm, “did you stay in a swanky hotel like this or did you go home to get a real night’s sleep?”

He blushed just a bit, “I did go home, it was nice to be in familiar surroundings again, even if they were a bit lonely.”

“No roomie to wake you with clattering dishes or water running?”

“Nope, terribly silent.” He agreed, but his wistful smile was more engaging than sad. “I had the luxury of my open window though, so there’s that. I also had a letter from Bucky, which was nice.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you had such a nice thing to welcome you home.” I truly was thrilled for him.

“He’s going to the front – which –”

“You’ll get there.” I interrupted, hoping to turn him from those thoughts, “Don’t worry, you will, I have faith.” Faith and fear.

“Your lips to God’s ear,” his smile was soft and sad.

“So, did your friend have any other things to relate?” I asked as we stepped through the lobby door.

“He shared some jokes that I’m afraid I can’t share with you, he’s kept his sense of humor.”

“Hmm, so that’s all I get, must be quite the ribald missive. I’m glad he could put a smile on your face. I’m sorry you had to come all this way just to have to go back – and I presume you’ll be walking me back to my hotel lobby when we’re through. I should have just taken a taxi to meet you.”

“Nonsense, you signed up for a view of my city, we’re taking the scenic route.” He smirked as he steered me toward the first city adventure, the bus stop.

We bussed, rode the subway, and walked and I enjoyed every sight he showed me and each story he shared. “I’m sorry, I seem to be talking non-stop.” He apologized several times and each time I would tell him, “I’m enjoying hearing everything you have to tell me about your home.”

As we stepped off the train, and we were about to tour Steve’s neighborhood, he remembered that he needed to stop into his apartment for something he had for a neighbor, “I’m sorry, I should have grabbed it earlier, you don’t mind coming up for a minute?”

“Of course not.”  He escorted me up the stairs and inside, leaving the door open. To protect my sensibilities, I guess.

As he pulled some things out of a kitchen cabinet, I looked around his small place. It was warm and welcoming and the walls were dotted with lovely sketches. The table in the kitchen had a few photos spread across it and there was an unfinished sketch. “My goodness,” I said, trailing my fingers along the edge of one photograph. It was a beautiful image of two young men laughing, enjoying the sun at the beach. “Who is this?”

“That’s Bucky; he’s the one in Europe right now.” Steve said as he stopped on his way past the table.

“Oh, I recognized Bucky from your drawings of him. I want to know, who is _this_ beautiful creature? The joyful blonde? Is he a cousin? You and he resemble one another.”

“Beautiful?” he just looked at me. I wasn’t sure what I’d said wrong – he seemed so stunned.

“Yes! He’s beautiful; your family tree must surely be blessed.”

“That’s me, before, well before everything.” He set the photo down on the table.

“You? Wow, what a growth spurt!” I’m sure I was blushing; I’d just called this insanely beautiful man beautiful to his face, in his apartment. How much more forward could I be?

“I had some help.” He chuckled, “Nobody’s ever called me beautiful before.”

“Surely you hear it every day. I know people are always remarking on your good looks.”

His blush crept down his collar, “I mean me.” He pointed at the photograph.

“Well, I’m saying it. You were (and are) a beautiful, handsome man.” There I go getting forward again.

He smiled, it was almost reluctant. “You ready?”

“I sure am, did you find what you were after?”

He held up the stack of cake and pie pans, “I did. I’m terrible about returning these things – beware, I’ll probably be sent home with a full one. You’ll be expected to help me eat whatever treat it contains.”

“Oh no, not on your life.” I protested.

“Yes, if only one piece, you won’t regret it, I promise you that. Of course it means we’ll have to stop by here again to drop it off.”

I nodded as we stepped out onto the landing. He had the pans in one hand and escorted me with the other toward the neighboring apartment. The middle aged woman that answered blinked up at Steve and was guarded, “Mrs. Wisotsky, It’s Steve. Steve Rogers.”

“Steven?” she blinked again, “little Stevie? What on earth?”

“Long story, must have been all the cakes and pies. Speaking of which, I have some of your belongings.” He smiled easily. “Mrs. Wisotsky, this is my friend Mary Anne Peters.”

“Pleased to meet you, my dear, do come in and sit down.” She stepped away from the doorway and Steve followed her in and kept going toward the kitchen. He placed the pans on the table, “I did wash them!” he promised.

“Oh, of course you did.” She tsked, “Come, sit. Have you heard from James?”

“I did, he’s headed to the front. Probably already there.” He looked into his lap as she crossed herself.

“I’ll light a candle for his safe return. I’m so glad you’re still here, safe.” She looked at him fondly. “Tell me, Miss Peters, how do you know Steven?”

“We met on the tour. He’s been a very handy and comforting friend.” I smiled, “He fixed my train case the first day we met and saved me from sheer embarrassment the second time. This time around he’s being so kind as to show me around your city.”

“He loves his city; you should see quite an eyeful with this one.” She rose to go to the kitchen, “You’re going to need something to keep you going, I’ve got just the thing. I hope it’s as good as your mama’s – I got it from this darned rationing cookbook.”

“Mrs. Wisotsky, you don’t have to feed us.” He tried to protest as she loudly tried to drown him out with clattering of the dishes.

“Nonsense, Steven, your mother would turn over in her grave, god rest her soul, if I were to turn you away with an empty stomach.”

He blushed and I stifled a grin, as I noticed his mix of exasperation and a refined anguish. “Thank you Mrs. Wisotsky.” He said softly.

“Thank you so much.” I told her as she handed me a hearty serving of an aromatic apple, cinnamon dessert.

“It’s called apple pandowdy – it’s supposed to be more ration friendly than a real pie. It smelled wonderful baking so I sure hope it tastes good enough.”

However I doubted Steve would ever say if it didn’t, he appeared to be absolutely entranced as he bit into the dessert, his eyes closed and his cheeks were dusted by his lashes as he savored the fruit and spices. His every movement as he chewed seemed to be in reverence and as he finished that first bite, he licked some sweet, spicy juices from his lips before praising Mrs. Wisotsky’s baking prowess. “Mmm. Mrs. Wisotsky, this hits the spot, you must have known I was coming. I’m so honored to taste such a delicious treat, thank you.”

“I agree, Mrs. Wisotsky, this is delightful.”

“Well thank you both. It’s just so nice to be able to share. It’s been so quiet in the neighborhood, with all the young men hying off to fight. Tell me you’ve finally given up on trying to go off to war, Steven.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Wisotsky, I can’t tell you that. Once I’m through with this tour, I’m hoping to be able to join Bucky and the rest of the boys. It’s the least I can do. Please add a candle for me.” He smiled softly.

“Oh, you will wear these old fingers out reciting rosaries for you in addition to James. I wish you’d heed my stories about the last war and just stay safe at home.”

“I understand, honestly. Please don’t worry too much. You know it’s just not in me to sit it out. Besides, you’ve been wearing your dear fingers to the bone for much longer on account of Buck and me.”

“Oh, dear. Don’t I know it, black eyes, and bruised bodies? Always a fighter, Steven.” She patted his arm. “I’ll do my part and speak to the Lord, you just come home. It seems you’ve met a nice girl here in Miss Peters to come home for.”

I tried to smile but decided it was easier to just bury my embarrassment in another bite of pandowdy.

We tried to clean our dishes and were whisked away, “don’t even think of it, you two have a city to see, don’t make me send the rest of this home with you.”

“It was a genuine pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Wisotsky. Thank you for your kind hospitality.”

When we were off the staircase and around the corner, he chuckled. His cheeks were pink and he was quick to apologize, “I’m sorry. She means well.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I joined his mirth, “women of a certain age are very keen to marry off men and women of another certain age. She adores you and James? That’s Bucky right?”

“Yeah, she does seem to adopt all of the street-rats from the neighborhood. Buck and I won’t be the only hooligans wearing her fingers down on that rosary.”

“You really are set on getting to the front, aren’t you?”

“Well, it’s why I started this in the first place, and I was promised – just get through this and I would get a commission.”

“I can’t say I want you to go, but if that’s what you want, I’d say remember Mrs. Wisotsky has candles lit and is counting on baking for you when you return.”

“I’ll do my best. So, what do you say we go see the rest of the neighborhood? I guess the deli will have to wait a couple of hours.” He smiled, patting his nonexistent stomach.

“I say that’s what I signed up for, and yes, waiting for food is a very good idea.”

Two buildings down an elderly man called out, “Hey Boy-O! You wouldn’t know anything about that little Rogers boy would ya?”

“Mister Dowdle! It’s good to see you.”

“Stevie boy? Is that really you? That Mrs. W. telephoned right away. I told you you’d finally grow into your spirit, boy-o.” a man sitting on a weathered chair front of a fruit stand called out in a thick Irish accent.

“Mr. Dowdle, this is my friend Anne. Anne, Mr. Dowdle is our longsuffering produce merchant.”

“Yes, this boy and his hooligan friend were always pilfering my fresh fruits. Only reason I didn’t call the coppers was this boy needed all the help he could get. Skinny little shit.”

I couldn’t repress the laugh this time, Mr. Dowdle looked like he was the most proud grandfather figure on earth when looking at and talking about Steve, even if I was in the presence of a thief.

“Mr. Dowdle, Contrary to what you might expect of me, Annie is a lady, and should not be subject to your stories!” Steve feigned dismay, “Especially such colorful language. And I seem to recall the reason you didn’t call the ‘coppers’ was Aileen’s crush on Bucky.” I didn’t miss the wink he aimed at the man, or the one he received back.

“Oh, Steve, honestly,” I laughed along with Mr. Dowdle, “I grew up with brothers who worked the steel mills, I’ve heard much worse – our house was painted rainbow colors every day from what they could come up with.”

“Oh yeah, Aileen did burn quite a torch for that James. He’s off to war then? My Aileen has her hands full with two wee ones and her man is over there. She comes by on the weekends, should be by this afternoon.”

“Give her my best. Yeah, Bucky’s in the thick of things. I’m sure Aileen’s husband and Bucky are both doing all they can to stay safe.”

“HA!” Mr. Dowdle burst into laughter, “Only one safe right now is you, Stevie boy! Those two are probably running roughshod over all those Nazi bastards.”

“I’m hoping to find out soon, sir. It hasn’t been my intention to play it safe.”

“Well if you had any brains in your head you would. But what do I know? I’m just an old Irishman. That doesn’t say much, old de Valera and the Oireachtas staying out of the conflict.”

“You’re keeping up to date with the motherland? I hear most of the country is in support of neutrality.”

“I’d be fighting those vicious men if I wasn’t so ancient Stevie boy. I’d just have to find a different army to fight with is all. Ya see? I understand your plight. I don’t have any brains in my head either.” He laughed.

“It was nice running into you, sir. Please remember to tell Aileen hello from me.”

“It was nice meeting you, Mr. Dowdle!” I took his weathered hand in mine, “Thank you for the laughs.”

“It was a treat to meet you too, Annie. You try to keep him on the straight and narrow, now won’t you?”

“I don’t think I’ll have any trouble with that, he seems to be doing just fine on his own.”

We continued down the street after a hearty goodbye, “You weren’t kidding, your neighborhood is colorful, and that’s just two neighbors in!” I chuckled.

“They’re family. Too bad none of them understands how important it is.”

“I’d say Mr. Dowdle seemed to grasp it. If they watched you grow up, you can’t fault them for wanting to see you fit and hearty.”

He laughed a little before he stopped, “if you only knew. That skinny kid you said was beautiful? He suffered. Not just bruises and black eyes, a lot of illnesses and afflictions. Yeah, they’re going to be glad to see me fit and hearty, but the whole reason I got this way was to fight overseas.”

“I still don’t think it was cakes and perseverance that changed you from that slender boy to what you are now, I don’t understand everything you’re saying, but I do understand your motivation. If they said you’d get there, you’ll get there.”

“Your lips to god’s ear…” he repeated for the second time that day.

“I’ll mention it in my bedtime prayers, along with a plea to keep you and your friend safe. So what’s next?”

“We’re off to a game, just like I promised.” He held out his hand, “You still game?”

“Haha… Tell me it’s not the All-American Girls Baseball League.”

“Would I lie to you? Of course it is.”

“Great! I’ll hide behind you so none of the girls will see the washout.” I was actually hoping to see some of the girls.

“You don’t look like someone who hides from anything.” He was still standing, hand out, waiting. I took it, it was large and strong.

“You read people well, I’m not, and in fact if I get a chance I’ll even introduce you to a few of the gals.”

I almost didn’t say it because I didn’t know how he’d react, since he still seemed so timid around the girls on the chorus line, but he smiled, “I’d like that.”

Once we were in our seats at the ballpark, I figured out why he wasn’t as nervous about it. He has a keen interest in baseball. We talked about ball, teams (I’ll forgive him for the Dodgers) and he was open to asking _me_ questions about the sport when he wasn’t entirely clear about something which wasn't often.

During the third inning, a small group of boys and girls were peering over in our direction repeatedly and would look away if they saw me looking. I had seen it before, they were trying to tell if Steve was Captain America or not. “You have admirers,” I whispered.

He looked at me then followed my gaze. He smiled and waved a (practically timid) wave which was immediately translated as a welcome and we were joined by the bunch of them.

“Are you really Captain America?” We heard in chorus.

“If you punched Hitler why are we still having a war?” One little girl asked.

“That's not the real Hitler Doris!” A small boy announced. “Why are girls so dumb?”

Steve sat up straight and looked at the small boy thoughtfully and then at Doris before addressing them all, “girls are not dumb, I was just thinking what a smart question Doris had asked. You're right, that's not the real Hitler, it's a show to rally all of the support we can for the men and women who are over there right now trying so hard to stop the real Hitler. Keep asking the hard questions Doris. Don't let anything stop you.”

He signed flyers and a piece of schoolwork as well as inside the leaf of Doris’ book before the children were rounded up with apologetic looks from a few adults.

As the game progressed, it was funny to sit with him and listen to him heckle the players. He’d chosen his team based on their stats and the skills he was keen on and he was actually heckling my team. I didn’t let on for a bit until a run that caused him to stand and call foul and I cheered, jumping and laughing. When he looked at me it was like I had turned on him – but it was all in good fun when he called me a traitor.

“It seems we’re destined to be on opposing sides, you like the Dodgers and now this!” I teased.

“You knew the team I picked going in.”

“Heckling the players and now this? I did pick _my_ team long before now. If it weren’t for the choices that were made this spring, I’d be _playing_ _on_ my team. Doesn’t matter anyway, your team _lost_.” I harassed him just a little. “Come on – I’ll introduce you to _both_ teams.”

His laughter followed me as I wandered the opposite direction of the exiting crowd. I abandoned all of my manners as I neared the rail, calling out “Alice!” My friend turned and her face lit up in recognition.

“Annie!! What in the blue blazes are you doin in Brooklyn?!” She motioned for me to come through the gate and I took Steve’s hand and led him through.

“The road show put us in New York for several days; Steve has been good enough to show me around. This is his own back yard. Captain Steve Rogers, this is Alice MacCoy.”

“Pleased to meet you, Miss MacCoy. Congratulations on your win.”

“Thank you Captain Rogers. It was hard won. I'm honored to meet you, Captain.”

“Please, call me Steve.” He offered, I wondered if his aversion to the rank or title would subside once he reached his goal.

“Steve then, and I’m Alice and we’ll just continue introductions on first name basis, if that’s acceptable?”

‘Ah sweet Alice,’ I thought, ‘rule breaker and heartbreaker combined. She’ll undoubtedly have him wrapped around her little finger in a New York minute.’

I couldn’t be more wrong; he took my hand and followed her in step with me. “She’s very energetic.” He quipped.

“She is that. Sweetest girl here.”

“I don’t know about that.” he said, barely audible, before ducking behind his hand as it brushed his hair aside for the hundredth time since I’d been looking.

Meeting the rest of the girls happened in a rush as the teams were loading up on the bus to head to their next city. They apologized for the hurried venture and all we could say was “how well we understand.”

“They’re very nice. Also very different from the dancers.” He observed as we walked toward the deli for what was going to be dinner.

“Yes, I’ve noticed a difference between the dancers and the dare I say, athletes. I think they all have similar objectives, but I’ve noticed many of the dancers are much more motivated by promises of picture deals in Hollywood. Often the gals on the field are motivated by other things. I think the motivations require different personality types. Don’t get me wrong, our girls are wonderful.”

“I think I understand what you mean. There are a few who are doing this because they think it can help the greater cause of the war and many are waiting for their next big discovery. And then there’s me, the next big discovery just trying to help the greater cause of the war until I can get there.”

“You underestimate yourself. You’ve been held over because you inspire people. I know it’s not commanding an army and I know it seems to be trivial, but you told those kids differently. Every morning, try telling yourself what you told those kids, including “don’t let anything stop you”. You’ll get there.”

He was quiet until we sat in the booth at the deli, “Thank you for what you said, you’re right. I’m doing this now and I’ll give it what I’ve got, but I won’t let anything stop me from getting to the next level.”

“I look forward to the time in between.” I confessed. “Today has been so much fun. Thank you for the look into your hometown.”

“Tomorrow, what do you say to seeing the more popular sights?” he offered.

“If you’re sure, you seemed to hold those in poor regard.” I tried to hold back my excitement.

“Not at all. It’s just nice to see the real thing up close and personal, don’t you think?” There was that charming wink again.

“I wouldn’t have traded today for all of the shiny windows in Manhattan.” I promised.

“What would have happened if _my_ team had won?” he asked, as serious as could be.

“I’d still say the same thing. The best part is we got to enjoy a game, share some Cracker Jacks and you got a lovely little toy racecar for your trouble.” I kidded.

“I think you should have it. You can think of me.” He smiled, reaching for his pocket. I put my hand out to stop him.

“We should have traded Doris, she had a tractor, you could think of me.” I smiled softly when he pulled the toy out anyway and handed it to me, folding my fingers around it.

“I want you to keep it.  Your first New York souvenir.”

“Captain Rogers, you are going to make me cry.” I knew one day he would get his wish and I was afraid that one day not long after that I would be stuck looking at that plastic toy and worrying about him.


	4. There’s No Way to Remain Unaffected Around Steve Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The troupe has made their way to Pearl Harbor. Annie and Steve see the emotional site.

In the months since New York, whenever the room-mothers weren’t front and center and gossip mongers weren’t lurking, I’d seek out Steve or he me. We had hit it off to the point where we enjoyed regularly discussing anything regarding current baseball activities.

We also enjoyed sitting in silence in the parlor of whatever boarding house or hotel lobby the girls were stationed in and we would just read companionably. Often he’d share news clippings with me and I’d tell him what silly thing I’d come across in the Reader’s Digest or something else. Some days we’d go to the cinema, often just for the news reels.

Over the course of those months, the company has performed shows on military bases in San Diego, New York, New Jersey and Hawaii. Pearl Harbor was a sobering reminder why we were doing what we were doing. Steve had been invited to visit the site and asked if I wanted to come along. I initially wanted to tell him ‘no-way’ but it seemed that the least I could do was to go and stand near the place that had been ravaged. To honor the lives that had been lost, in some small way.

It was tough to watch because his resolve was cemented even further. Not that he’d ever wavered; his resolute plan was always laid out before him. This wasn’t a fun event for either of us, not that it was supposed to be, but the drive back to our lodgings had us both ignoring the blatant beauty that surrounded us.

“Steve?” I finally ventured, “You’ve been trying since that day, haven’t you?”

“Yes. I can’t tell you how many times I tried to rewrite my life.”

“How was it that you’re so connected to men you’ve never met?”

“It wasn’t about the individuals. Not before today. It was about the fact that someone shouldn’t be able to get away with hurting someone else.”

“Now you’ve been to the core of the matter, where we were pulled into it all, and you’re even more committed.”

“I’m even more committed.” He agreed.

“How did you do it? I think you’re guarding a very large secret, but I wouldn’t tell a soul.”

“I met a scientist, he’d been working on a serum, the government wanted to use it to their advantage.” He sighed, “I’m not supposed to be telling anyone any of this.”

“I understand. I won’t ask again.” I wouldn’t, but it turned out I wouldn’t have to.

“I was the test subject. He was killed before he could give the army what they signed up for. With no understanding of what had happened, I was left behind as research until I was put on this path.”

“Selling bonds to make a difference.”

“Yup. and I am, making a difference. I just feel like there’s  _so much more_. Especially after standing on that site.”

“It makes me wonder if I could do more, too, if that’s any comfort?”

“You could, if that’s what you wanted. I met this agent, she – well, she’s off fighting too, in her own way.”

“I always wondered, when you said ‘everyone’ had gone off to war and your firm denial that there was no girl waiting at home – I thought maybe you did have a girl and she had gone off to war too. Liv’s been around the entertainment scene a lot more than me, and she was sure it was Bucky who had your heart.”

“What? No, I mean, sure, I love him, he’s as good as brother to me – hell, if it were true I’d have to deny it anyway wouldn’t I? But no, Buck and I just go way back. Jesus, how many people think that?”

“Just Liv.” I took his hand, “Relax, she was just talking to me, don’t worry. She says she’s “progressive but nobody else is” so she wouldn’t “stir up trouble for her favorite captain”.”

“Oh, well small favors, I guess. Please don’t let her say anything to anyone – just one rumor like that being overheard and I’d never get over there.”

“I will remind her, so what’s her name? Your girl?”

“She’s not my girl,” he blushed, “her name’s Peggy. Agent Carter.”

“She’s as good as your girl, with love-struck eyes like that, Steve.”

“Now you’re just being difficult, she’s – she was my superior.”

“You have a thing for her nevertheless. Remember, “Don’t let anything stop you”. Agent Carter’s the inspiration behind your heartfelt talk with those kids isn’t she? She’s what you encouraged Doris to become!”

“You are as impossible to talk to as Bucky.” He folded his arms and looked out the window.

“If you’re this stubborn, with him it’s no wonder he’s impossible to talk to.”

He was quiet for a while but I attributed it to the somber place we’d just left and not to our conversation. I had an idea to bring out a smile and I thought through the steps I’d have to take to make it happen while we drove.

The company was holding a dance for the soldiers that night and even though ‘Captain America’ was required to be there, I hoped to be able to convince Steve to leave early. The kind woman who had put the girls up in her plantation home had invited me to dine with them after I had stopped to help her pick up the linens that were being whipped from her clothesline. “You must come.” She insisted, “Everything will be finished and perfect!”

“Steve?” I ventured, before we made the final turn onto the road to the plantation.

“Yeah?” He looked at me apologetically, “I’m sorry – I’ve been terrible company.”

“Not at all, that was a very emotional observance. So, I know you’re required to make an appearance tonight, would you be interested in taking a walk with me after you’ve appeased the masses?”

“You’re not just offering me a way out are you?”

“Not at all, I’m hoping you’ll offer me one.” I smiled.

“I’d like that. Thanks for riding with me today Annie.”

“Thanks for inviting me, I have a lot to think about now.” I offered him a small smile and my hand. His hand brushed over my fingers before closing on it.

“Me too.”

I used the time between our arrival at the plantation and the dance to make sure my dress, an embroidered, teal rayon piece I’d recently picked up, was wrinkle free. I freshened up my hair and added some color to my face. The bustle of activity from the girls coming in to start getting ready, made the room feel full of energy, which I realized I needed after the draining morning. I briefly hoped that Steve hadn’t continued to stew over the moodiness like I had.

“Have you been sitting here practicing your wallflower routine all day Annie?” Shirley teased.

“No, I have been getting my dress and myself prepped for a night of dancing. Not on stage either.” I smiled, dipping my toe into my stocking and pulling the silk up along my leg. I fastened it to the garter before repeating the process, “What have you girls been doing?”

“We have been watching the locals on the beach.” She and a couple of the other girls giggled.

“I hope you remembered to wear your hat, you don’t want to go to the dance trying to cover up a sunburn.” I teased, knowing full well she did  _not_  wear her hat and I was not one to talk.

“We were wearing more than the locals were.” Gladys giggled.

“My goodness, girls.” I smiled slipping into my suede platform sling backs, “I’ll see you there.”

“Wait, you’re not going to ride with us? There are cars coming to take us.” Shirley protested.

“No, it’s a lovely day for a walk, I’ll see you there.”

Steve and I met up at the dance after he strode around in costume with the brass and met the soldiers. As soon as he could, Steve caught my attention. “I just need to change, meet me outside?” I nodded and he ducked into the back to trade his costume for dress khakis and a starched dress shirt.

I’ve seen him most often in the attire he presented in now, and the red, white, and blue, second to that. I might prefer the look he had when we visited Brooklyn and New York City. There, he was comfortable in his home attire, a less pressed and more relaxed trouser, and soft cotton shirt, but I think he’s drawn to this look. I have to admit, I appreciate all aspects. I smiled when he took my hand.

“So where are we off to?” he asked.

“I have an invitation to dinner, and you’re my guest.” He nodded and followed my lead.

We walked in silence until we were forced to stop as two roosters chased a brood of hens into our path, then turned to face one another, their neck feathers fanned out in blooming collars around their faces. They engaged in a fight for dominance and the hens scattered. We looked at each other questioning, should we shoo them along? But the smaller cockerel backed down and the drama ended with our laughter.

“Maybe next time, young fella.” I said as we walked past the flock.

“I bet he hears that all the time.” He joked.

“I bet those hens are used to the ruckus too.” I giggled, “come on, we are supposed to go to the beach, this way.” I slipped my shoes off, “hold on just a second I don’t want these relegated to war service just yet.” I unsnapped my stockings through my skirt as he looked dutifully away, out over the plantation. I hurried and bunched them down and stuffed them into the toes of my shoes then tugged his hand.

We ran along the path until I was breathless, but his breathing hadn’t even picked up, whatever happened, I was starting to imagine they were underappreciating this man vastly. I bent over, dropping my shoes and put my hands on my thighs to catch my breath. He jogged back to me. “Don’t, just don’t.” I laughed between breaths.

He picked up my shoes, “Don’t what?”

“Don’t say anything.” I smiled, “I’m a dancer, I should have more stamina.”

“You were trying to keep up with me.” He laughed, “I might have forgotten exactly how to pace myself. Trust me; I wouldn’t say anything about stamina or needing to stop for a break.”

“Well, what do you say you remember to keep  _down_ with me?” I smiled as I straightened. I reached out for my shoes but he took my hand instead, carrying them in his opposite hand as we closed the distance between us and some amazing smelling smoked meat and other island delicacies.

“Aloha ahiahi Miss Annie!” Malana greeted me with open arms, “You did come. Who is your friend?”

“Malana, I hope it’s ok, I wanted to share with Steve, Steve this is our hostess, Malana.”

“Of course your friend is welcome, Steve, Aloha oe.” She gripped him in her signature hug, “Mai a`i; I am sorry, I mean, come and eat.”

“Mrs.”

“Malana, just Malana, Steve.” She laughed.

“Thank you Malana.” He smiled warmly, “Everything smells amazing.”

“Eat! There’s enough for everyone. Annie, would you introduce Steve to the boys?”

 _The boys_  were her very grown up, very strong sons. I introduced the men and they managed to get Steve to help them unearth the centerpiece of the meal, the kalua pig. He came back smelling like smoke and laughing, telling me all about the imu, the underground oven, and the process he’d just learned.

“You just helped prepare our meal! I’m very excited to taste it now.” I teased.

“I applied strength and force, I had nothing to do with the most important. and intricate process before the food was cooked.”

“I’m still convinced it will be better because you were part of the process.”

“You’re just humoring me.” He ducked his head to sweep that forelock from his face, again.

“I’m not. I would never. I might be exaggerating the impact you have had on our dinner, but I’ll bet the fact that you had something to do with it will make  _you_  enjoy it that much more.”

We ate copious amounts of food, we laughed and learned basic Hawaiian phrases. The “boys” tried to get Steve to join them in their dance but he steadfastly declined, with a bashful smile and a wink. The girls, however were less open to refusal when they tried to get me to learn to hula.

I looked to him for support and to quote Mr. Dowdle, the ‘little shit’ wouldn’t back me up. “You’re a  _dancer_ Annie.”

“Technically I’m a ballplayer who dances, Steve.”

“Still, you’re currently a dancer and should definitely learn some new moves.” That’s how I learned a few hula moves.

When I came back to where we’d been sitting, he was smiling a warm and beautiful smile but he was quiet. I’ve never done anything forward with a man before, it wouldn’t be ladylike or acceptable, that was drilled into my head. I had berated myself for calling him beautiful after all, so when I put my hand on top of his, and he looked at me softly, that should have been all.

It wasn’t all. I leaned closer to him as we listened to the ipu music being performed by the boys and the men. I tilted my face to look into his eyes, soft blue like the sky in the daytime, and I leaned even closer, brushing his full lips with mine. He turned his hand and squeezed my fingers gently, and returned my kiss briefly before slowly pulling back.

“I’m terribly sorry to be so forward, Steve, but I’m not sorry I did that.” I knew I was blushing and I was happy that the sky was dark and the firelight would  _never_  disclose that secret.

“You shouldn’t be sorry for anything.” He said quietly. “I liked it.”

“I’m not, really. You did? I mean, thank you.” I was almost certain that my embarrassment could be seen beyond the firelight and would light up the ocean with its vibrancy this time.

He chuckled, the sound musical and slightly embarrassed. “I’m glad I’m not the only one feeling confused about this.”


	5. I’ll never forget the days I spent with Steven Grant Rogers (Beannacht leat go bhfeicfidh mé arís thú)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are languages I don’t speak, I blame the internet if they’re wrong I tried to keep it simple :)

We were back in New York City, and had just completed our last stateside show before the troop was flying to Europe to entertain the soldiers.  Some of the girls were scared and had decided not to go, others had their dreams come true with movie studio contracts. All of the girls were sharing tear filled goodbyes and I just couldn’t deal with it. I slipped out of the after-show farewell party and took a breath of the night air.

“Annie.” I heard behind me.

“Steve.” I smiled before turning to see him, “You haven’t been in to say “good bye” to the girls yet.”

“Guilty. Not entirely sure how to handle all of that.” He leaned against the rail as I overlooked the harbor.

“Yeah, they’re emotional.” I laughed softly, “Not exactly fun. I bet you’re anxious for Europe, do you think they’ll finally release the ties they’ve put on you?”

“I could hope. I don’t expect much.” He frowned, “I guess it would be enough if I can just visit with Bucky for a time. I haven’t gotten a letter since we were here last. His folks haven’t heard anything either.”

“Walk with me?” I pushed away from the rail, “I’d enjoy your company, and the hotel isn’t that far away.”

“Sure, I don’t mind the chance to get out of the hot seat for a while.”

“It can’t be all that bad having all the girls wanting your attention.” I teased.

“It’s nothing like that.” He plunged his hands into his pockets, “Not one of them talks to me, just you and Liv.”

“You scare them. You’re too quiet; you carry a shield around even when you’re not in costume.” I explained.

“So, are you looking forward to getting to Europe?” he asked, hoping – obviously – to change the subject.

“Steve, that’s why I wanted you to walk with me,” I stopped, turned and looked up at him, he was illuminated with the gold of the street lamp, looking even more gilded than he did any other time.

“Is something wrong Annie?” he shifted feet, scrubbing the forelock from his eyes, causing me to smile.

“Yes and no. Do you remember when we talked after Pearl Harbor? I said I wanted to do more?”

“Yes,” his eyes met mine, “You’re not going to Europe?”

“I am but not with the troop. Steve, I joined the Women’s Army Corps and I’m going to basic training before heading for London.”

“Jesus H. Christ, even you.” He cursed under his breath trying not too successfully to hide the green-eyed monster of jealousy, “I’m sorry Annie, I’m just…”

“I understand, I waited and waited to tell you because I knew it would be difficult to hear. I know how much you want to get to the front and I know it will happen. You’re so close now, Steve.”

“I feel like I’m as far away from that goal as ever.” He took my hand into his, I reveled in the strength, and warmth there, the night chill under my skirts and over my nose and ears seemed to disappear. “Thank you for all of your encouragement. Maybe you’re right and I just need to be patient.”

“I may have mentioned that virtue, Steve.” I grinned at him, “Hey, there’s a band playing down the other end of the street from my hotel if you want to stop and spend some time. Maybe we could get a drink and have a chat.”

“Not ready to call it quits?”

“No, not yet. Also not willing to spend one more minute in a torrent of tears.” I grimaced.

“Some party.” He agreed, “Some music and a drink sound far more desirable. Just remember I can’t dance a step.”

“I’ve danced my legs off tonight, you’re safe. Some other time. Maybe I’ll be in London when the troop gets there.” I teased.

“Heaven forbid I’m still with them by then.” He scowled. “Not that it wouldn’t be nice to see you.” He added as he escorted me through the door to the nightclub.

“Thank you.” I called over the music, “I might change my mind about the dancing if these tunes keep up.” I teased.

“You’ll have to find a different partner.” He warned. “This place is too crowded for dancing lessons.”

“You should have taken me up on the offer when we had the stage to ourselves the other day.”

“Someone could have come in.” he protested.

“I know, someone could have “interrupted”.” I grinned over my glass with a raise of my brow.

* * *

* * *

Steve had stayed behind after a rehearsal and as hard as it was for me to not tell him my news then, I was able to distract myself by unbuckling my shoes and stepping out of them, by watching him pace, not nervously, but restlessly, across the stage.

“Have you always been as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs or is there something specific bothering you?” I’d asked.

“I guess there’s always been an energy.” He admitted, stopping and hopping down from the stage.

“You should go dancing! That’ll tire your body right out and you could relax sometime.”

“I told you I don’t know how.” He sat in the front and center seat, slouching as only I’ve ever seen him do, if anyone else ever did, I haven’t heard of it.

“Well, you’re in luck, I know just about every dance the gals swoon over, I can teach you to swing a wing.”

“I doubt it. The clubs are always too busy.”

“What about right here, right now? There’s a phonograph right over there and the stage is the perfect size.”

He laughed, not a nervous laugh but a robust humor filled laugh, “and someone could walk right in and interrupt us at any minute. You’ve seen how it is.”

“Well then, we’ll just make them join in.” I lowered myself to sit on the edge of the stage and swung my legs over so I could face him, “The more the merrier.”

“I’d rather not have an audience while I’m breaking your toes.”

“Ok, so we have the whole theater to ourselves, what should we do with it?”

“I have a request.” He sat upright. His lashes dusted his pink cheeks, “I’ve heard you sing and I wondered if you could do me a favor?”

I love to sing, and I’m just a tiny bit terrified of singing in front of anyone, but I did let my guard down with Steve once or twice, and his eager expression won him the battle.

“I can try.” I admitted, after all, who knew what the favor might have been?

“If you tell anyone, I mean anyone at all, Annie – I’ll deny this.”

“Wow, ok. I promise I won’t say a word. Your secret wish is safe with me.”

He stood up and started pacing, nervously this time. After several passes I stopped him, “Steve. You have to tell me or I can’t do it.”

“You can’t laugh either.” He warned, when he saw my serious face he continued, his blush an all-time high, “My ma used to sing for me, when I was small or when I was sick, but my hearing wasn’t the greatest. I’d like to hear the song – the way it’s supposed to sound, and not just the muted way it came to me.”

“Steve, I’m flattered, but I don’t think I could do your mother justice, it’s the memory, not the song.”

“Please? Just humor me, I don’t ask people for things – I just don’t. I’m asking you, not to try to do Ma justice or bring her back but,” he hesitated.

I wasn’t sure he even had the words to finish his thought, “Ok, for you, I will. What was the song, I might not know it.”

“You might not, I didn’t think of that. I think it’s Irish Lullaby – or – Too Rah Loo Rah Loo Ral”

“I do know that one, surprisingly. My father took my mother to see a production in New York and he came away singing that song. Momma said Daddy was the singer of the family until I was born. One condition, you have to sing it with me.”

“Oh no… I don’t sing.”

“You don’t sing, you don’t dance. What on earth? Come on, if you’re nervous about your voice all you have to do is imagine you’re convincing an audience (by the way the seats are  _all_  empty) to buy war bonds. I’ll sing it all the way through and then we’ll do it together.”

“That’s the price of admission, huh?” he scowled, hopping back up onto the stage, and offering me a hand up.

“Yes sir.” I replied, accepting his help, “If I have to sing, so do you.”

He walked to the center of the stage, still holding my hand, so I followed.

“You’re really going to do this? I was nearly certain I’d get out of it if I made you join in.”

“I’m really going to do it. I’m not backing down from a challenge, but you have to know I’ve been told I’m tone deaf.”

“Yeah, you were also told you were partially deaf. Things have changed. Have you tried singing since – everything?”

“No, I haven’t. You might be on to something.”

“If you sound better than me, I quit.” He chuckled at me and I took both of his hands in mine, breathing a good bracing breath before I started singing.

> Over in Killarney, many years ago  
>  Me Mother sang a song to me in tones so sweet and low,  
>  Just a simple little ditty, in her good ould Irish way,  
>  And I’d give the world if she could sing That song to me this day.  
>    
>  Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,  
>  Too-ra-loo-ra-li,  
>  Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,  
>  Hush now don’t you cry!  
>  Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,  
>  Too-ra-loo-ra-li,  
>  Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,  
>  That’s an Irish lullaby.  
>    
>  Oft, in dreams I wander To that cot again,  
>  I feel her arms a huggin’ me As when she held me then.  
>  And I hear her voice a hummin’ To me as in days of yore,  
>  When she used to rock me fast asleep Outside the cabin door.

Hearing the words and catching their meaning brought his guard way down, his eyes glistened as he realized that he had been longing to hear a song his mother sang to him; a song about a man longing to hear a song his mother sang to him.

“Steve.” I said as he blinked away the glistening tears, “I take it back, you don’t have to sing. I don’t want…”

“Teach me.” He said softly. “I’ll have that song, I’ll know it and I’ll keep it, if you teach me.”

I’m not a teacher, but I offered him my breathing and posture practices. I felt bold enough to touch him, directing him to use his diaphragm, and being forward enough to linger with my hands on him just a little longer than necessary. I stepped back and started him off by having him sing after me. He picked it all up, the nuances, the notes, and the tune.

“Ok, I’d say you’re ready to solo.” His face lost a shade of color, and I laughed softly to reassure him, “Or would you prefer to sing a duet with me?”

“I’d prefer you sing along.” He answered, his cheeks pinking up again. He wiped tears away, “You promised you wouldn’t tell a soul.”

“I did, and I keep my promises. What made you think of this?”

“I heard a mother humming to her baby the other day and thought about how I didn’t really know the song ma sang to me all the way from the cradle to not that long ago. To me it was always a muffled melody but Bucky always said ma had the voice of an angel when I asked him what the song sounded like to him. I think it might have sounded something like what you just sang, because Annie, you have the voice of an angel.”

My cheeks probably lit up with how flushed I felt. “I don’t often sing in front of people so I never hear compliments about that, but I have to say out of all the compliments I’ve ever gotten on anything I’ve done, that has to be the nicest Steve.”

I got him to sing the song all the way through and I had to admit it was a beautiful duet. “You can sing, Steven Grant Rogers. Don’t ever let anyone tell you can’t.”

* * *

* * *

 I looked at him over my glass before taking another drink, and then I started singing, “Over in Killarney, many years ago, Me Mother sang a song to me in tones so sweet and low”

He laughed, “Annie, you might have the voice of an angel, but that song doesn’t sound right with what the band is playing.” He complained.

“Oh, I know, you’re right.” I laughed, happy to see his shoulders shaking with mirth instead of bearing the weight of the world on them.

I started singing along to the band;

> “Oh, drinking beer in a cabaret  
>  Was I having fun  
>  Until one night she caught me right  
>  And now I’m on the run
> 
> Oh, lay that pistol down, babe  
>  Lay that pistol down  
>  Pistol packing mama  
>  Lay that pistol down”

Luckily he kept laughing, we stayed through the entire set, drinking cocktails and trying to top each other’s stories. Most of his either ended up with or started with him getting punched, many of mine ended with my “poor sainted momma” since they were mostly about my brothers and them getting punched or otherwise causing trouble.

“Sam taught me to drive after momma explicitly said “no, that is not ladylike” – which never did make a lick of sense to me – but he said “you have to be able to drive, you’re not goin to be slave to no man.” Sam’s just a year younger than me and he saw that momma’s ideas for me and mine weren’t the same. So we went out driving, he said I did real well and thought I could probably outdrive him and Bobby both. He decided to see how I could handle getting the car unstuck from the mud so he backed the car into a pretty boggy area by the river and said “Ok get’er out.”

“He jumped out of the car and landed on his rear in the mud. I remember laughing at him as I slid across the seat to try to get two tons of car out of this marsh. I’d seen him and Bobby and Daddy do this and I knew, for one, I wasn’t going to have a lot of luck all by myself, but I thought I knew what to do so I straightened the front wheels and put the car into gear. I wasn’t happy when I didn’t get anywhere. He’d stuck me good. I hoped I could get the car to rock a bit so I could get ‘er out of the muck but the rear end started fishtailing and I stopped.

“Daddy heard the tires screaming and came running over, trying to figure out why his little girl was sitting behind the wheel of his new ’39 Olds, axle deep in the mud. He nearly tanned Sam’s hide when he found out, but instead told Sam to do it, “You put’er in there, you pull ‘er out. Get the tractor if you have to but you’re paying for the damages you little shit.”

“Sam damn near put the car into the river trying so hard to rock the car backwards and forwards to loosen it up. I sat there watching him sweat and fret over it until Daddy and Bobby came and rescued him from his master plan and helped get the car out. Daddy looked at us and said “don’t tell your sainted mother about this”.”

He laughed, “Oh the things we never told our “sainted mothers”, but I’m pretty sure they knew a good portion of what we did – you’ve seen how close the neighbors are, you can imagine how quickly word traveled, even without telephones.”

“You poor boys.” I laughed, “Because the bruises and busted lips didn’t tell any tales on their own did they?”

“Oh yeah, those could have had something to do with it,” he chuckled. “So, you’re really going to the other side of the world, huh?”

I sighed, “Yeah, I was fully expecting to be stationed right here. I learned from a friend that you go where they need you, so I’ll go.”

“From a friend, huh?”

“Yes Captain.” I grinned, “You’re an inspiration, whether you realize it or not.”

“You’re going to write to me, aren’t you?”

“I will, and I hope you’re not kept too busy to write me back.” I took the piece of paper I’d written my address on earlier from my purse and handed it to him.

“I get a lot of down time backstage.” His scowl was back as he tucked it away in his pocket.

“Well then, I expect a lot of long letters. I’ll start sending you assignments. Singing practice, Talking to Girls, Dance Steps to Learn, I’ll keep you busy, Captain.”

“I don’t doubt that.” He chuckled, “So, are you ready to head back to the hotel?”

“If we can go slowly.” I rose from my seat, thanking him when he pulled out my chair, “I leave tomorrow and I don’t feel like saying “A hui kaua, or Beannacht leat go bhfeicfidh mé arís thú yet and I definitely don’t want to say “goodbye”.”

“Hawaiian and Gaelic? You surprise me Annie.” He smiled softly before following me out the door.

“For Pearl Harbor and your Ma, I asked one of the girls how to say “until we meet again” and she told me that “Blessing on you until I see you again” was what I wanted. I tried not to butcher the Gaelic.” I tucked my hand around his arm as we started walking

“If memory serves me, you did a fine job.” Steve put his hand over mine on his arm.

“Well, if not, I have one more chance when I actually say it. Tell me another story about Bucky and Steve. Hopefully not one where you are getting beat up.”

“That narrows the playing field. That’s it, baseball. We went to a game a couple of years ago, last time we got to do something like that was before Ma died. It started out I was nervous about leaving her alone, she wasn’t well. She insisted that we go; ma was about the only one who could out-argue me. I went but I felt guilty all along. By the time we got there, had a beer and some food, Buck managed to get me into the game and I was able to watch and have a good time.

“He schooled me on the Phillies stats most of the game. He made making wagers with each other on innings and runs a little uneven. We did lose to each other back and forth, but he won more often than I did.

“A woman and her daughter weren’t shy about talking up Bucky, trying to get him to ask the girl out, I guess. He was a sweet-talker, bought them some peanuts, and somehow sent them on their way without hurting their feelings. He said he wouldn’t have asked the girl out because her ma wanted him to. Said that meant she was trying too hard, maybe the girl was “knocked up or somethin. Ya gotta watch out for that kinda thing Steve.” He said.”

“Yeah, you do need to watch out for those mothers setting their girls up, Bucky’s not wrong. So is Bucky a Phillies fan? Or does he just know all the opposing team’s statistics?” I asked, confused for a minute, and impressed that they could do something as passionate as attend a baseball game peacefully if they liked opposing teams.

“Nah, he has a good mind for figures and statistics, he likes to bet on the games sometimes for money so he knows stats. He’d probably call you some very colorful names if he heard ya call him a Phillies fan even in a question.” Steve laughed.

“Then please don’t tell him,” I laughed with him, “I’d actually prefer it if he liked me when we get to meet.”

Even though we took slow steps toward the hotel, we were there long before I imagined I’d be ready to say goodnight for the last time. He seemed hesitant as well. We stood outside the doors and continued to pepper the air with little anecdotes until it was far too late. When the yawn I’d been holding back finally escaped he did exactly what I knew he would.

“I’m keeping you from your bed, you probably have an early wake-up call too. I’m so sorry Annie.”

“Don’t you dare apologize! You’re doing no such thing. I’m the one putting it off.” I took his hand in mine again, reluctant still to end the night.

“Do you have a car coming for you in the morning?” he asked.

“Yes, at ten. I have to meet by 10:30”

“Would you mind if I came instead? I’d like to escort you, if you would allow it.”

“I’d really enjoy that, Steve. You’ll have to help me apologize to the driver, I’m afraid it’s far too late to cancel his call.”

He chuckled, a deep and honest sound, “I’ll do what I can. Have a peaceful night, Annie.”

“You too, Steve, I have a feeling we won’t be getting many more of those in the very near future.”

* * *

I headed down the next morning, feeling nervous and frightened. My brown skirt and white blouse with simple brown shoes were a far cry from what I was used to but would still be eschewed for the WAC uniform in no time. I almost felt self-conscious without my armor of colors, Steve had never seen me in anything but flowers or colors, and why was I worried about what he thought of my appearance? I knew he had an Agent Carter in his heart. We hadn’t discussed her since Pearl Harbor. We hadn’t discussed her or the kiss, instead we had carried on as the friends we were so it never felt uncomfortable.

He was there, right where he’d stood when I waved at him through the door the night before. Dressed in his uniform, looking smart, he waved at me when he spotted me through the door and I smiled.

I stepped out into the autumn air and took a deep breath, “Good morning Steve.”

“Annie, you look lovely.” The compliment was delivered shyly and quickly, and I knew it was sincere. That bolstered my confidence.

“Thank you, you’re dashing as always Steve.” I took pleasure in the flush of color the extra flattery brought to his cheeks. It wasn’t that he didn’t deserve effusive compliments, he really did, it was that they were so out of place that it should have been obvious I was teasing him.

“So I took the hit and already waved your driver off,” He said, taking my bags out of my hands. “He picked up another fare.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t a waste of his time.” I watched him sling the bags over the side of the truck bed. He’d borrowed the company pickup, the same one I’d seen him leaning against the first time he’d taken my bags. “I can’t believe we’ve come full circle.”

“What was that?” Steve opened the door and gave me a hand up into the truck.

“I said I can’t believe we’ve come full circle, I met you in front of this truck, you rescued and insisted on taking my bags. It’s –”

“Yeah, it is.” He blushed before closing the door once I was situated.

The drive was too short, I listened to him as he gave me a narrative of the city we drove through, wishing I could see the memories he clearly cherished and sometimes regretted.

“I think I’m going to love New York forever because of the way you’ve presented it to me. Thank you for that gift Steve.”

He looked at me as he pulled in front of the building, his smile was soft as he thanked me for saying so, “I have to admit, sharing it with you has made it feel more like home than it had started to with everyone gone, so thank you for that.”

I opened the door at the same time he did and we climbed down from the pickup simultaneously. The creak of the springs was the only sound until the thump, thump of the bags as he pulled them out of the back. Followed by his uncontrolled laughter. I turned to see why, and there were my stockings just like the first time, diaphanous trails of silk fell from the open train case.

“Oh no!” I laughed, as we both stooped to pick up the escaped items, “Oh Steve, I’m so sorry.”

“I was about to apologize to you.” He said, setting a soft pile of stockings into my hand. I piled everything inside again and pulled the lid over them and he took the case and twisted the latch again, giving it a little extra tug. “You might want to look into something a little sturdier.”

“I should have left the whole thing behind and let the girls figure it out. I’ll definitely replace it before we leave for London. Probably should have done it before ever setting out from Ohio.”

He surged up into a standing position with the bag in one hand and held out his other to me, “I’m glad you didn’t, we may never have connected.”

I took his hand and stood in front of him, lacing my fingers in his, my other hand I put on his neck, pulling him to me, stretching to taste his lips. The kiss was soft and sweet, a little gift to I gave myself that got a little better when he slung his arm around my waist and pulled me closer, engaging in the kiss curiously and tenderly.

I pulled away first, looking at his intense features. “I’m glad too, I’ll always be grateful for happy accidents.”

He released my waist and continued to hold my hand, “I suppose this is goodbye.” He said quietly, picking up my suitcase and handing it to me, he then passed my train case over to me, following me as far as the door and held it open.

“No, Steve, it’s not. Remember? It’s A hui kaua, or Beannacht leat go bhfeicfidh mé arís thú.”

“Beannacht leat go bhfeicfidh mé arís thú, Annie.”

Inside, I waved and watched as he backed away waving before turning to the pickup. He waved again before he got inside.

* * *

I’ll never forget the days I spent with Steven Grant Rogers.

I never received a letter from him, and I sent three. A year later, when Bing Crosby had a hit with Too Rah Loo Rah Loo Ral, I listened to it with a soft spot for a beautiful young man in Brooklyn / New York City.

Two years later when the news of Captain America’s sacrifice reached me in the Pacific Theater, I wept for days, inconsolable. I threw the record across the room and listened to the pieces shattering with my heart, and then I cried some more, until my bunkmate offered me her copy with the stipulation that I not throw that one too.


End file.
